


The shadow of memory

by chick_with_wifi



Series: #root [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Episode: s05e01 B.S.O.D., F/F, Missing Scene, POV First Person, POV Root (Person of Interest)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chick_with_wifi/pseuds/chick_with_wifi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Gotta save the world.” The words leave my lips before I have time to think about whether or not I mean them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The shadow of memory

“I never thanked you.” I stiffen at the sound of Harold’s voice behind me. Thanks to my singular fully-functioning ear I don't know precisely where, so I don't turn. Kinda funny how after everything Harry and I have been through together _this_ is the one thing I exercise pride over.

“For what?” I ask, gaze locked on the subway wall in front of me.

His footsteps echo - I think he is approaching me but I can't be sure. Mentally, I do a little salute, Thank you Control. “Staying after...everything you lost.” I know who he means, of course: Shaw and Her.

“Gotta save the world.” The words leave my lips before I have time to think about whether or not I mean them. “We’re going to get them back,” I add in a whisper, painfully aware of how much like a child I sound.

He gently places a hand on my shoulder and I turn. His face is softer than usual, and his brow furrowed in concern. For some reason I don't like him being concerned about me. It feels...strange and uncomfortable. Just like his hand on my shoulder. “Root,” he says.

He never calls me Root. I step away from him, ending the contact. “I can't let you boys have all the fun,” I say brightly and enter the subway car, suddenly needing to find something, anything, to be busy with. I need to work on rebuilding Her.

He stands in the doorway behind me as I rummage through a pile of tools. “I’m proud of you,” he says quietly. 

Nobody has ever said that to me before and it makes my chest feel tight. I run through possible responses in my head: thank you, my pleasure, it was nothing, I care about you, I couldn't bear it if I lost anybody else, I didn't know where else to go. None of them are suitable so I say nothing and leave it up to him to decide what happens next. After a minute he leaves and I am alone.


End file.
